English poetry

Poets Х Biographies Х Poems by Themes Х Random Poem Х
The Rating of Poets Х The Rating of Poems

Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson


Dregs


The fire is out, and spent the warmth thereof,
(This is the end of every song man sings!)
The golden wine is drunk, the dregs remain,
Bitter as wormwood and as salt as pain;
And health and hope have gone the way of love
Into the drear oblivion of lost things.
Ghosts go along with us until the end;
This was a mistress, this, perhaps, a friend.
With pale, indifferent eyes, we sit and wait
For the dropped curtain and the closing gate:
This is the end of all the songs man sings.



Ernest Christopher Dowson


Ernest Christopher Dowson's other poems:
  1. Quid Non Supremus, Amantes?
  2. Epigram
  3. Vain Resolves
  4. Amor Umbratilis
  5. Villanelle of Marguerite's


Poem to print Print

1204 Views



Last Poems


To Russian version


–ейтинг@Mail.ru

English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru